


Where do we go from here?

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU ending, Fluffy, John in charge, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mycroft cares, Parentlock, real love, renaming, she dances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: There are a lot of theories out there about whether or not most or all of season 4 wasn't real. I'm not certain, myself, but I'd like to think that things would have actually ended differently. Here's one take on what I'd like to have seen





	Where do we go from here?

The machines in the room tell Sherlock that John still lives. The short man looks even smaller in the tiny hospital bed. Sherlock had lowered the safety rail on his side of the bed. Perched on his uncomfortable chair, pulled tight to the bed, he held John’s hand. Bringing it occasionally to his lips. Kissing John’s skin. 

His eyes glistened with moisture that wanted to fall as tears. His brow furrowed with oppressive worry. John had to live. He had to live. There was too much future in front of them. He kept saying the words in his head. {Don’t you dare die, John Hamish Watson. We are meant to be together in this.}

“Has there been any change?” His brother’s words are tinged with despair. 

Sherlock turns and looks at his brother and for the first time there is a mutual respect between the two. Both of them care about John Watson. 

“He’s in an induced coma. Their waiting for the cranial pressure to recede. It’s coming down slowly.”

Mycroft came to the foot of the bed and held the railing for a moment. 

“Do advise me if there is any change, Sherlock. My schedule is quite full, but I do want to be kept in the loop.”

“Yes.” Was Sherlock’s only reply. 

Mycroft turned and left quietly. No tapping of his brolly on the hospital floor to mark his passage.

“She shot you. Like Mary shot me, she shot you. You don’t have to worry about her any more. She won’t be hurting anyone.” Sherlock brought his forehead to John’s warm hand.

The hand he held moved of its own volition. Sherlock’s head snapped up and he looked intensely at the John’s hand. Then John. Scanning his features for micro-movements.

“John? John can you hear me?” Sherlock’s voice is deeper than normal. Emotion trapped in each syllable. 

Midnight blue eyes peer out of heavy lids. Recognition dawns and a tender smile ghosts over familiar lips. “Sherl...” The word goes unfinished as the mind drifts softly away.

Sherlock rises up, relief suffusing his face. Leaning over he kisses John’s cheek. He presses the patient call button, so that he can notify the resident idiot physicians that John is attempting to wake.

(-_-)

There is no denying that John Watson is a medical miracle. He’d taken a grazing shot that had done a number to his cranial stability. But like the trooper that he was, he’d beat whatever odds the idiot doctors had given him. 

And did anyone ever say that Doctors make the worst patients? Make that more than difficult, say horrendous. Yeah, that’s the right word.

John was trying to, no he was ambulating after being told not to. Was talking to his PT, all the specialists involved, the nurses that came in and out. In point of fact he talked to everyone. So, what should have been months in hospital with many people working with him, turned to weeks in hospital. Culminating in his return to 221B. With Sherlock doing everything he could to NOT help too much and yet not neglect John’s needs.

One of the first things on John’s agenda was changing Watson’s name. He’d always wanted Catherine. With the help (he actually offered to do all the paper work) of Mycroft, Watson’s name was changed to Catherine Willa Sherl Holmes-Watson. John was adamant that she have a choice of names when she was older. Sherlock was gobsmacked into an unprecedented silence. 

“Generally, the god-parents name is not added to the surname. Isn’t that correct?” Sherlock questions. 

“You are no longer her god-parent.” John states unequivocally. “You are now one of her two fathers.”

At that information Sherlock collapses into his chair looking completely dumbfounded. Which really isn’t a good look on him.

“Listen to me, William Scott Sherlock Holmes. That blow to my head did more than shake my grey matter up. It made me realize that I’ve got to get my priorities in some semblance of order. Cat is my number one priority. You are number two. WE are number three.”

(-_-)

Said Cat is safely ensconced with Mrs. Hudson, just below them. She and Molly were taking turns providing the finest care available to any god-daughter alive. Mrs. H knew that this first evening together for her boys was going to be a teensy bit alligatored. So she reveled in the fact that she would have Cat all to herself for yet another night.

“We’re just going to have so much nice quiet time together, aren’t we love?” Mrs. Hudson held her god-daughter and smiling down at her perfect face.

(-_-)

“Do I have any say in this matter?” Sherlock seemed prepared to mount a major assault on John’s reasoning.

“Before you say anything. Listen to me.” John cocked his head at an angle and stared into Sherlock’s silver-blue eyes. “When you ‘died’ a great emptiness blanketed my soul. I’d not lost a friend, I’d lost the love of my life. The one person who completed me. Fulfilled me. Fixed my brokenness. I was a fool to marry. I was a fool who’s heart was broken so badly that I couldn’t seem to move past our past. I see now. I know now that you and I are destined to be together. Cat is our family. And you can argue till you turn blue. Nothing will change that. I’ve loved you for so very long, Sherlock.”

Sherlock swallowed the incredulous lump in his throat. Looked down at his very expensive Italian bespoke shoes and when he looked up tears welled up in his bright eyes. His mouth made a tiny smile of relief. 

“I’ve wanted this for some time.” He admitted. “But I was afraid to bollocks things up. I’ve only wanted you to be happy, John.”

“Then make me happy, Sherlock. Marry me, help me raise our daughter. Help me be a better man.”

“John, my John, there is no better man than you.” With those words Sherlock stood and the two men converged on one another. Their mutual hug was a miraculous healing thing.

Then there was the sleeping arrangements.

(-_-)

“Well that went better than I thought it would.” John was lying in the rumpled remains of their first, second, third and fourth sexual escapade. “We are going to have some take away in. I don’t think I can move to far or too fast.” He giggled then, like a school boy caught at it.

Sherlock, looking like he was twelve, lay draped across John. Their warm bodies cooling together in the sex scented air. 

“That, was amazing. I’ve never...you are quite possibly...how do you do...” Sherlock couldn’t seem to form complete sentences.

John pulled him into a tight embrace and Sherlock came to him so very willingly. 

“I’m sorry for all the leaving you behind, for the coming back too late, for the...”

John stopped his apologies with a tender kiss that turned full of lust and made them harden in all the right places.

“We have to get some food in us.” John stated factually. “I don’t want to starve to death on our first night together.”

Sherlock reached for his mobile and looked at John. John gave a ‘you can read my mind’ slight nod. “Thai, it is then. Want to try something new?” Sherlock asked innocently. 

John smiled and pinched Sherlock’s nipple. 

“Ouch!” Sherlock squeaked as he one-hand dialed the Thai place that delivered.

(-_-)

Mrs. Hudson brought the take away up and into their bedroom.

The two men were stunned into stupidity by her entrance. Not able to even cover up. 

“Don’t you worry your little curlies,” she states unapologetically. “I’ve seen more than my share of everything that dangles or struts.”

Sherlock took the bags of food as she exited their bedroom and out of their flat and into hers.

John and Sherlock looked at each other and began to laugh so hard they almost fell out of their super king sized bed. 

“We have got to take her out to dinner soonest.” Sherlock handed John a take away box and a spork.

Uncharacteristically, Sherlock actually dug into his food with wild abandon. John watched with great intensity.

“Who knew all I had to do was shag you senseless to make you hungry. Good to know.” John is savoring his food too. It seemed the rest of the world was far, far away. The past wrongs were righted, the future is something to look forward to and if this was sex with Sherlock Holmes, then holy hell John Watson is all the way in.

“John?” Sherlock is naked and relaxed and there is just that little bit of food at the corner of his luscious mouth.

“Yes, love. Whatever you want is yours, now and forever.” 

Sherlock’s smile is like a beacon of radiant love. His eyes bright with tears of joy that threaten to stain his beautiful face. John thinks he looks so like an ancient sexy god of lust.

“I was hoping you would say that. Yes, I will.” Sherlock finally answers the question asked earlier that evening.

John pulls himself up straight. “Do you want a full on wedding or shall we slip away to some secluded paradise?” John is being totally honest in this question.

“I think we will have to do both. Mummy and Mrs. Hudson will kill us both if we elope. I’m sure they will plan a wedding fit for Royals. You and I, I think, would be quite happy with a secluded space with a proper murder on the side.”

John drew Sherlock into the warmth of his loving arms. He kissed the Tai from Sherlock’s lips and placing his empty take away box on the bed side stand, he thought that it was time for more get-caught-up sex. Because there were months and years to get caught up on.

(-_-)

The wedding is televised nationally. Was that really necessary? Was Mycroft in cahoots with the world press? There was nearly two months of preparation. The wedding itself lasted nearly two hours and the going to and coming from is corridored by throngs of their adoring public, all waving little rainbow flags. The government was on the verge of shutting the whole place down so celebrations would not be interrupted by actual work. It was the blow-out event of this or any other season. They even got their wedding photos on the cover of a special edition of Time magazine. Quite a coup for the British government, the Holmes family and, of course, the Royals were in attendance.

(-_-)

John, Sherlock and Cat were at last in their secluded hide away. Very hush, hush. Only need to know friends were to call or text.

Sherlock held Cat close as he danced with her across the plush carpet of the honeymoon suite.

“Isn’t she a little young for dancing lessons?” John asks as he enters the room dressed only in a fluffy towel from his shower. “They have a pulsing shower head here. You’ve got to try it out, Sherlock.” John looked into the up turned face of his little daughter. She really seemed to enjoy the dancing.

“She’s a natural John. Look, see how she dips and follows my lead as I move around.”

All John could see is the man he loves with his beloved daughter dancing their way into his heart.

He took over from Sherlock as he went to take his shower. Sherlock had already given Cat her bath and she was such a happy girl. John knew he was the luckiest man in any universe.

(-_-)

The evening passed too quickly as Cat began to fade about the same time as John. 

“Can you put her in her crib?” John asked. A Holme’s bespoke wooden crib stands just to the side of their bed. 

Sherlock took Cat in his arms. “I’m not tired. I’ll take her for now.”

John smiled as he slipped into a deep welcomed slumber. He woke hours later. Sherlock lay next to him. Cat sleeping on his chest. Close to his heart. His large elegant hand caressed her small body in delicate stroking motions.

“You’re spoiling her. Soon she won’t be able to sleep without you being her mattress.” John whispers. Sherlock uses his free hand to capture John’s hand as he turns to face his husband. John can’t clearly see Sherlock’s face in the dim light of the room, yet the tremor in his voice is quite evident.

“I never thought I’d ever have this. A family, I have a family, John.”

“Right you are.”

Sherlock can hear the joyousness in John’s voice.

“Where do we go from here, John?” He speaks from a heart filled with love. 

“Where ever we go. We go together.” John leans upon on an elbow and kisses his husband and sleeping daughter.


End file.
